


Pushing and Pulling

by orphan_account



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Body Image, Dysphoria, F/M, Packing, Self-Acceptance, Trans Male Character, binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 19:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10288097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mulder and the mirror never agreed.[A sort-of timeline-like description of Mulder's struggles with dysphoria and his gender journey]





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love the trans mulder headcanon and wanted to contribute something even if it's not super good lol
> 
> immediately orphaning this bc it might be ooc and idk how well it actually lines up with canon

Mulder and the mirror never agreed.

By sixth grade his chest was larger than any of the other girls in his class, and he covered it all with hoodies and never took showers and pulled on his greasy hair until pieces would come out. His bangs grew over his eyes and he never cut them. He didn't know why then, but now he thinks he understands that it was one of the ways of hiding that he took to at that age. The more that covers the better.

In seventh grade, he took to exclusively wearing sports bras instead of saving them for athletics, and piled on two and three just to push his chest back a little, just to pull and move his body a little bit more until he could try to like it.

In eighth grade he began trying to look like a boy at home, in his room, by himself. His dad and mom would argue and he would close his door and pull out the least feminine thing in his closet and try it on, with the sports bras, with the long, greasy hair pushed up into a baseball cap. Pushing and moving. And trying to like what the mirror showed him. It wasn't much, but it was better than before.

He liked baseball. But around that time he couldn't find much else to like.

In tenth grade he found out what transgender was. He applied it to himself, tentatively, like being anything other than what he was told was plucking a delicate flower and trying to get the roots too. He was scared. He called himself “he” alone, again, and tried to look less like a neon sign that read “female”, but that scared him too, and he twisted his hair around his fingers until pieces would come out.

He couldn't tell this to anyone. He didn't have friends that he could trust with such a fragile and vulnerable part of himself. He covered it like he would cover his body, and like his body, nobody really saw it. He hid it. During this slow frantic time he wondered in the back of his mind what Sam would think if she were still here. She would be in middle school now, and maybe he would trust her. Maybe she wouldn't understand, or maybe she would understand just fine and they would grow closer. Maybe they would already have a better relationship than when she was abducted.

Maybe he wouldn't burden her with it. She would be 11 and young and there would be a rough few school years ahead, and then some more. Maybe he wouldn't tell her after all. But man, he would appreciate the comfort if it would have come.

He wished he could let her know that she has an older brother instead of an older sister. And he felt bad for making such big decisions with his life when she wasn't there to see them too. When she wasn't there to grow with him. He wished he could slow down, pause time and wait for Sam to make her way back, and they could argue and watch TV together and he wouldn't have to think about how he was moving on without her. Leaving her behind.

He decided he wouldn't leave her behind, and asked his dad what working for the government was like.

Senior year he spent less and less time at home. He knew he was hurting his mom, but couldn't stand being there for any longer than he needed to. He needed to get away.

After graduation he grabbed everything he owned, left home, cut his hair by himself in the mirror of a hotel bathroom – it was strange to see his face, his jawline – and slowly bought his way out of a feminine wardrobe and into a masculine one. He shoved socks down his boxers to feel something there and bound his chest further with first bandages and then an actual binder. He worked his way into the FBI alone, without talking to many people. He was other and had an unacceptable “delusional” goal and an unacceptable body and so he didn't find much reason to share it with many people, though he noticed his growing “spooky” reputation anyways.

He kept to himself, really, working on the X files and nothing else. He didn't consider trusting many other people after thinking of Sam in high school. And then Scully was assigned to the X Files, and something inside him blossomed that he didn't know he could feel for another person. Over time, as they learned to trust each other, he felt plain love and admiration bloom within him. She wouldn't even have to feel the same. Just being with her and conversing with her lit up his insides.

And eventually, he trusted her enough. He honestly thought he would never be able to give so much of himself to another person and trust that they would hold onto it, but they trusted each other with their lives, and what was this if not his life? So he told her, and she kissed him on his forehead, warm and kind, circling a hand on his back and he cried like he was just broken open across Scully's hands. He was so tightly wound stuffing all of this inside himself and didn't realize it until he could let it out. And she understood just fine, and they became closer, and Mulder found that with a confidant, with someone in his corner, he could finally, finally learn to like what the mirror showed him.


End file.
